


The Sweet Heat Of His Breath In My Mouth I'm Alive

by Anonymous



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Author is Asexual, Canon Asexual Character, Fluff and Smut, I’ve never written smut before this was one hundred percent an impulse decision, M/M, Masturbation, No beta we die like archival assistants, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, sex-favorable asexual character, they’re in love your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29774790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “So you’re a pillow prince,”Jon huffs. “Well if you want to put it like that,”Soon after arriving to the Safehouse and allowing themselves a few days to bask in the comfort of being alone together in the middle of nowhere, finally safe fromthe horrors of the last few years if only for a moment, Jon decided it was time he and Martin discussed a few things about their relationship. Among them is the complicated subject of Jon’s sexuality. Martin had mentioned he’d heard people say Jon “didn’t” and he tried to explain to the best of his ability how, no, he doesn’t experience sexual attraction but yes, when the mood strikes him he does like having someone he trusts help him get off, and he trusts Martin more than anyone, but also no, because as much as he’d like to say otherwise he’s not comfortable returning the favour.“It’s just not fair to you,” Jon makes his case, but instead of the expected reaction Martin’s lips curl into a smile.He leans over Jon and presses a kiss to his temple. “It would be a privilege to make you feel good,” Martin says.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 9
Kudos: 119
Collections: Anonymous





	The Sweet Heat Of His Breath In My Mouth I'm Alive

  
“So you’re a pillow prince,”

Jon huffs. “Well if you want to put it _like that,_ ”

Soon after arriving to the Safehouse and allowing themselves a few days to bask in the comfort of being alone together in the middle of nowhere, finally safe from the horrors of the last few years if only for a moment, Jon decided it was time he and Martin discussed a few things about their relationship. Among them is the complicated subject of Jon’s sexuality. Martin had mentioned he’d heard people say Jon “didn’t” and he tried to explain to the best of his ability how, no, he doesn’t experience sexual attraction but yes, when the mood strikes him he does like having someone he trusts help him get off, and he trusts Martin more than anyone, but also no, because as much as he’d like to say otherwise he’s not comfortable returning the favor.

“It’s just not fair to you,” Jon makes his case, but instead of the expected reaction Martin’s lips curl into a smile. 

He leans over Jon and presses a kiss to his temple. “It would be a privilege to make you feel good,” Martin says.

Jon frowns. “But I can’t reciprocate,” Jon reminds him, feeling confused. 

“That’s okay,” Martin insists. “Jon, I’d be happy to have you in _any_ way you’re comfortable with. I— just being here with you right now is more than I ever dared to hope,”

Jon considers this for a moment. Most people would say it’s not ideal, but if Martin says so… “Alright,” Jon agrees. “Take me to bed?”

Martin sputters, his content expression quickly turning into flustered shock. “ _Now!?_ ”

Jon shrugs. “If you want to,”

“If I—!?” Martin scoffs. “Of course I want to. Are you, you know, feeling up for it?”

Jon squeezes his thighs together experimentally even though he already knows the answer. “Yes,” He decides. 

Martin laughs as if he doesn’t believe his luck. He breathes an “Okay,” and the next thing Jon knows he’s being lifted by Martin’s arms into a bridal carry.

Jon’s breath hitches. Martin is... stronger than he’d anticipated. He’ll have to file this away for later. 

“My hero,” Jon comments dryly and Martin snorts. They stumble and laugh their way to the bedroom, surely knocking a few things over on the way, where Martin promptly throws Jon onto the bed.

He’s about to make another snide remark when he opens his eyes to the sight of Martin crawling onto the bed and making his way toward Jon, his broad figure looming over him as he plants his hands on each side of Jon’s head.

“Hey there handsome,” Jon croaks, his throat suddenly feeling as dry as sandpaper. 

“Hey,” Martin whispers back. His warm eyes travel down Jon’s lithe body, taking it all in. For once, Jon is the one being pinned down by a curious gaze and _watched_. But he knows this is nothing like Beholding, the way Martin looks at him is the most human thing Jon has been subjected to and it makes his eyes sting with gratitude. 

His wide hands start making their way down the sides of Jon’s body like the whisper of a caress. Martin’s hands are not as soft as he’d expected, they’re scarred and calloused and Jon wants to take each of his fingers and kiss them like some cheap romance novel. “Is there anywhere that’s off-limits?” 

Jon hums contentedly. “Not for you,” He murmurs like a purr. “Not today. But I can’t promise it’ll always be like that,”

“That’s okay,” Martin smiles, an echo of his earlier words, and leans down to kiss the softness of Jon’s belly where his shirt has ridden up. 

Jon’s hand creeps up and buries itself into the downy curls of Martin’s hair. “You’re too good for me,” 

Martin huffs a sweet laugh, his face flushed and lovely. “No,” Martin disagrees. “I’m just right,”

With that, he nuzzles his way down Jon’s clothed thighs. “You deserve everything and more,” Martin continues in a low murmur. “And, god, I am going to do my best to give it to you,”

Jon whimpers. “Martin,” He calls though he doesn’t know what he’s asking for.

Martin shushes him gently. “I got you, love,” and pinches the skin of Jon’s thigh through the fabric and kisses the spot. 

“ _Martin_ ,” Jon hisses.

“Was that okay?” He checks.

Jon hums an affirmative. “Quite,” He says. “But _please_ ,” 

Martin laughs with the slightest hint of meanness and Jon feels like the heat of his chest is going to ignite and burn him alive. 

Finally, _finally_ , Martin dips his fingers in Jon’s sweatpants and starts pulling them down his legs to display his wet briefs. Any other day Jon would be embarrassed by how quickly he got worked up but right now he’s too heady with heat and Martin’s hands on his skin and, and…

Oh, _fuck_ , he forgot to tell Martin about that part. 

He quickly pushes himself up on his elbows.

“Wait– _shit_ , um. Martin? I, ah, might have neglected to tell you something,”

Martin rests his cheek on Jon’s thigh and, gods, who gave him the right to look so pretty, so at home between Jon’s legs? “Is everything okay?”

Jon looks up to the plain ceiling. Please let this not be a dealbreaker after _everything_ they’re already discussed. Just rip it like a bandaid, Jon. “I’m trans,” He says.

“Oh!” Martin exclaims. “Thanks for telling me,” He says, like they aren’t literally about to have sex and Jon brought this up a few layers too late. 

“Is that okay?”

Martin hums an affirmative. “Very,” He claims and starts slowly lowering his head. He’s close, so close and yet not close enough and how is Jon supposed to have a coherent– if badly-timed– conversation like this? “Is it still okay if I go down on you?”

Christ, Jon can’t do this. He lets himself fall back on the pillow and lets out a shaky breath. 

“Yes,” He says after a moment. And then “Please,”

Martin kisses the damp spot of Jon’s briefs and he makes a noise so loud and humiliating he’s glad they’re in the middle of nowhere. This is only for Martin to hear.

“Please,” Martin repeats like rolling the word in his mouth. “It sounds so lovely from your mouth,” Jon keens, pulling a laugh out of Martin. “Alright, alright. I’ll quit teasing you,”

He presses one more open-mouthed kiss to Jon’s briefs before he’s pulling them down and throwing them somewhere in the room. Martin’s breath hitches as he comes closer. “You’re beautiful,” He says and the feeling of his warm breath on Jon’s wet entrance makes him shiver. “So beautiful and all for me,”

Jon lets out a breathless moan and squeezes Martin’s head with his thighs. “Yes,” He agrees. “Yours,”

“Mmhm,” Martin smiles. “That’s right,” and then he’s hitching Jon’s legs over his broad shoulders and lapping at his damp hole. Jon startles and bucks against Martin’s heated mouth but he pins him down by the hips with firm hands and Jon can feel his toes curl in dizzy delight. 

Martin sucks at him with a hunger that makes Jon feel lightheaded. He can feel Martin moaning against him earnestly and the situation is so perfect, so delicious and he can’t do anything but throw his head back in pleasure as he tightens his grip on Martin’s hair. Martin licks at him with a flat tongue before moving upwards, just a little, and sucks his dick into his mouth. He squeezes his thighs against Martin’s face in a way he’s sure can’t be comfortable until Martin whimpers happily from where he’s being lovingly smushed.

Martin lifts his head for a moment, resting his damp chin on Jon’s navel. “God I love you,” He gasps and kisses Jon where his pubic hair curls above his groin. “I could live like this forever,”

Jon lets out a breathy laugh but before he can properly reply Martin is sucking him back into his mouth and then, well, Jon has nothing left on his brain to say at all.

Right when he’s growing used to the rhythm of Martin’s mouth he feels a thick finger dip into his entrance quickly followed by another, the stretch so mouthwatering Jon finds himself desperately trying to grind down on them to no avail, only earning a tight squeeze on his side where Martin’s remaining free hand rests. Soon Martin’s got three fingers in him as he sips on his dick and it’s nearly on the verge of too much, it’s been so long since Jon experienced something remotely like this and never this good, gods, it’s never been this good. 

“Martin, Martin, Martin,” He babbles. “Mar– hmmmn fuck, _Martin_. I’m gonna. I–”

Martin shushes him again. “Go on,” He prompts. “Come for me, baby,” He kisses the sensitive skin near Jon’s entrance and licks, his tongue sinking into him besides his fingers and that’s all it takes for Jon’s eyes to roll back as he comes harder than ever before in his life. 

When he comes back to himself Martin is leaving a trail of little kisses across his hips and stomach where his hands left red marks. “Hey,” He says. “Are you feeling okay?”

Jon laughs. “Better than ever,” Jon admits. “You’re too good at this,” 

Martin rolls his eyes. “Hardly,” He says and Jon hopes he’s not being serious, Martin shouldn’t be selling himself short after absolutely rocking Jon’s world. 

He lowers his legs back to the mattress and makes grabby hands at his boyfriend. Martin, never one to say no to Jon, crawls over to him and kisses the side of his mouth. Jon turns his head in order to kiss him properly, his tongue lazily tracing the outline of Martin’s mouth.

Martin gasps a string of needy moans and Jon drinks them all up. “You can get off here if you want,” He says, pulling away for a moment, but close enough his eyes struggle to focus on the exact shape of Martin’s face.

Martin whimpers against the side of his face. “Kiss me?” He pleads, and how could Jon say no when the word sounds so lovely coming from his mouth?

Jon kisses Martin’s upper lip and then his lower. Martin lets out a low moan and on impulse, he licks a broad stripe across his pink open lips. Martin turns red to the very tip of his ears and whimpers as Jon finally fully presses his lips against his. 

His hand is softly going through Martin’s hair, pulling him closer as his other hand wraps around the swell of Martin’s middle, pinching the fat of his belly in retribution for earlier. Martin moans eagerly against his mouth as he closes his fist around his dick and thrusts into it. After a few moments, Martin comes into his hand and drops his head on the nook of Jon’s neck where he sighs happily.

“Here, let me,” Jon says and grabs Martin’s wrist, bringing his hand closer for him to suck the digits into his mouth one by one, lazily curling his tongue around them as he sips them clean.

“Fuck” Martin’s voice trembles. “You’re a dream,”

Jon huffs a laugh. “Thank you,”

The look Martin gives him is unbearably soft, and it carves its way into Jon’s chest until it’s tucked away in his heart. “No, thank _you_ ,” 

  
  



End file.
